Adultery Between Nabila and Ranjeet

[naj0501]

When he finally leaned in, our conversation melted into quiet closeness, the kind that made the rest of the night blur into warmth and touch.
At first, his lips touched mine gently, tender and searching. They were warm, soft, and a little rough at the edges from his stubble. The kiss was slow, a brush of emotion and curiosity. I felt my heartbeat speed up as his lips lingered, coaxing me into the moment. I closed my eyes and leaned in, letting myself melt into his touch.
The gentleness turned into need, and as our mouths parted slightly, I felt the wet warmth of his tongue slowly slip inside my mouth. It was smooth and eager, tasting of coffee and something uniquely him-earthy, intimate. The sensation made me moan softly, my own tongue meeting his in a shy yet hungry dance.
I felt a thrill run down my spine, my hands rising instinctively to cup his face, pulling him closer. It was our connection made real, intense, messy, and beautiful. His lips moved with passion, pressing against mine in a rhythm that made my toes curl. The way he kissed me felt like a promise-not just of pleasure, but of all the feelings he'd kept locked inside. I gasped slightly as his lips moved over mine, my breath catching from the intensity, my fingers automatically rising to hold his face, needing more of that contact.
His breath was warm and a little uneven, carrying the faint scent of the coffee we'd shared earlier mixed with something entirely him-masculine, earthy. It tickled my cheek and sent goosebumps over my skin. Each exhale made me shiver in anticipation, adding to the intensity of our kiss.
I moaned into his mouth, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer as fireworks exploded behind my eyelids. God, he kissed like he meant it-like every stroke was a promise of what was coming.
"Nabila," he whispered softly against my lips at first, his breath warm, sending tingles across my skin. Then, with a growing need, his voice turned rough as he kissed me harder, breaking it just enough to gently bite my lower lip. The mix of tenderness and hunger made my heart flutter and my body shiver in response.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to devour you like this. Your mouth... it's addictive. I could kiss you all night and still not get enough."
I felt a rush of heat pool between my legs at his words. My breath hitched as my body responded on its own, arching into him, drawn by a mix of his rough voice and tender touch.
My thighs pressed together involuntarily, heat spreading like a slow burn. My heart pounded faster, and I felt a soft ache between my legs, pulsing with need. The sheer want in his voice, in his eyes, made every nerve in my body come alive.
"Then don't stop," I whispered, my voice breathy and shameless. "Kiss me harder, Ranjeet. Make me feel how much you want me."
He chuckled deeply, and I felt the vibration of it through my skin-it made my heart beat even faster. Slowly, his hands moved from cupping my face down to my shoulders, then further to my waist. They were warm and steady. As they slid along my sides, his fingers pressed into the silk of my saree, making a soft rustling sound. It was like he was feeling every part of me, trying to remember the shape of my body through the cloth. His touch was full of care but also hungry, like he didn’t want to let go. Every time his fingers pressed or moved, I felt small waves of excitement, and my skin came alive underneath. His every move was slow, but it said a lot-it told me he wanted me, fully and completely. Then, he bent closer and softly kissed my lips again.
I was drowning in him-the taste of coffee on his lips, the scratch of his stubble against my skin, the way his body pressed me back into the sofa cushions. My heart pounded wildly, a mix of excitement and that delicious ache building low in my belly.
Pulling back slightly, his eyes dark and blazing with lust, he placed his hand gently on my shoulder over the pallu of my saree and slowly slid it down, making the soft fabric slip off my shoulder. His fingers brushed against my collarbone, sending a tingling feeling through me. His touch was slow and respectful, like he was unwrapping something precious, making my skin tingle with every movement.
The fabric slid beneath his grip, warm and smooth under his fingers, making him more eager to feel the skin beneath. I could sense his growing excitement in the way his breath quickened and his touch grew more deliberate, like every fold of the saree carried a part of his longing.
I could feel the tension in his breath against my cheek-warm, uneven, and laced with desire. The scratch of his stubble rubbed against my jaw as he leaned closer, the roughness of his stubble rubbing deliciously against the soft, delicate skin of my face, making the contrast feel electric and intimate. It sent a shiver through me, that tickling scbang sending waves of excitement through me, sparking a heat low in my belly that only grew stronger with each passing second.
His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, his breath hot and teasing, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. His voice dropped, deep and hungry, "This has to go," he murmured, the words laced with desire. "I need to see you... feel you... strip away every layer between us and taste every inch of you, Nabila. Let me unwrap you like the most precious gift I've ever touched."
My breath hitched, a thrill shooting through me as I nodded and slowly stood up in front of him. He sat on the sofa, his eyes dark with longing, and reached for the loose end of my pallu, which already hung down from my shoulder. With slow, reverent hands, he began to unwrap the saree, inch by inch. The soft fabric slipped from around my waist, gliding over my hips with a silky whisper. I held his gaze as I turned slightly, letting the folds unravel, the saree sliding lower with each movement of his fingers. I helped by gently loosening the pleats from my waist, letting them fall to the floor in a soft, crimson pool.
Now standing in front of him in just my fitted blouse and petticoat, I saw how he looked at me-his eyes full of hunger and admiration. His breath was warm and heavy, falling softly on my skin, making me feel shy and bold at the same time. I felt like something special, like he had been waiting to see me like this for a long time.
My blouse was maroon with delicate silver embroidery on the neckline and short sleeves, the deep cut showing off the upper curves of my breasts. The petticoat was made of stretchy lycra material, clinging to my hips and legs and falling just above my ankles. It was a matching red shade, plain and smooth, allowing ease of movement while still hugging my shape. Tiny silver jhumkas swung gently from my ears, their cool touch brushing my cheeks now and then, and a delicate chain lay around my neck, its thin pendant resting just above my cleavage.
The look in his eyes made my skin tingle-hungry, reverent, as though he’d just uncovered something sacred. His gaze raked over me hungrily, making my skin tingle. "Fuck, Nabila, look at you. Those curves... I want to worship every inch."
I looked down, my cheeks warm, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze. "Do you... like what you see?" I asked softly, my voice hesitant but filled with trust.
Ranjeet leaned in closer and placed soft, wet kisses on my bare belly. His breath felt hot against my skin, each kiss leaving a trail of tingling warmth that made my stomach flutter. Then, I felt his hands moved to cup my bums gently, and a deep shiver passed through me. My eyes widened at the unexpected boldness, but instead of pulling away, I bit my lip, the thrill of his touch sending waves of pleasure to my core. He squeezed softly, his palms firm but reverent, making me feel both shy and excited.
He then dipped his head again and started kissing around my navel, this time slower, wetter, and more playful. His mouth moved in lazy, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue circling teasingly around my belly button.
"Mmm... Ranjeet," I breathed out, my fingers brushing through his hair, trembling.
"You’re so sensitive here," he said with a smile in his voice, his breath warm and heavy on my skin.
"It tickles... but in the best way," I giggled softly, biting my lower lip as my hips twitched toward his mouth involuntarily.
He looked up for a moment, eyes full of mischief. "I love how your body reacts to me. It’s like your skin talks to my lips."
"Then don’t stop... let it talk more," I whispered, arching slightly as he kissed lower.
The contrast of his wet lips and warm breath made my skin come alive. Every kiss felt like a tiny electric jolt, playful and arousing, like he was teasing my nerves awake one by one.
As his hands moved up, they glided smoothly along the curves of my waist, slowly approaching the softness of my breasts. When he finally reached them, he cupped them with both hands, gently at first as if memorizing their shape and weight. His warm palms made my skin tingle through the thin fabric of my blouse. I gasped softly as his thumbs brushed over my nipples, the pressure sending a sudden rush of sensation that made me arch into his touch. My breath quickened, and a soft moan escaped my lips as his hands explored, hungry yet tender. The sensation was overwhelming-my heart thudding, body aching for more.
"Your breasts... so soft, so perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I love the way they fill my hands, the way you react to every touch."
With practiced ease, he found the buttons and began to undo them one by one, his eyes fixed on mine, I was breathless, my heart racing. I was his in that moment. My heart beat fast, my skin warm under his touch. I felt his eyes devour me with admiration and need, and it made something inside me flutter wildly.
My breath caught in my throat, nerves and excitement dancing together. I wanted to be touched by him, kissed by him, held by him. I wanted to lose myself in his arms and forget everything else. I stood there, open and waiting, my body aching to feel more of him. The look in his eyes gave me courage.
Blushing, I hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze. My hands trembled slightly as I reached up to help him, fingers brushing his as they moved together to unbutton my blouse. The soft clicks of each button opening felt louder in the quiet room. As he slid the blouse down my arms, I raised them slightly to help him, and the fabric slipped away, pooling at my feet. I stood before him, breathing fast, flushed with desire and shyness.
My bra was lacy and pale pink, with delicate floral patterns embroidered on the cups. As Ranjeet slid his fingers under the straps, he paused, looking up at me with a wicked grin. "This is so pretty... but it'll look better on the floor," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
He tugged it gently, but it didn't come off easily. He fumbled for a moment, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
"Damn, these hooks are trickier than I thought," he muttered, making me giggle.
I reached back, helping him undo the clasp. "Here, let me help you, Mr. Confident," I teased, our fingers brushing in the process, sending a warm shiver down my spine. Once it came loose, he looked up at me and whispered with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Now that's teamwork."
I gasped softly as the cool air touched my bare skin. His eyes widened, full of hunger and raw desire, and I saw him freeze for a second as if trying to take in the sight of me. My breasts spilled free, nipples already hard under his gaze. "God, Nabila... you're so beautiful," he whispered, almost reverently.
I felt exposed and shy, yet that look in his eyes made me feel powerful. My body tingled all over, and a deep warmth pooled between my thighs. His gaze alone made me ache for his touch, my heart pounding with both nerves and longing. I bit my lip, cheeks flushed, and took a shaky breath as his eyes slowly traveled over me, worshipping every curve without saying another word.
He groaned and stood in front of me. His left hand gently cupped the back of my neck, guiding my lips back to his in a kiss that was deep, hungry, and intense. Our mouths locked with raw passion, our breaths mixing as the kiss grew hotter. His right hand found my breast again, squeezing it tenderly before teasing my nipple with his thumb and forefinger, making me moan softly into his mouth.
I gasped as he pulled me closer, his hardness pressing against my body. Then, without breaking the kiss, he began unbuckling his belt. I sensed his urgency and placed my hands over his, helping him unfasten the buckle and unzip his pants. Together, we pushed them down, along with his underwear, baring him completely. He stepped out of them quickly, never taking his eyes off mine. The air between us was thick with desire, every touch and look fueling the fire that had ignited between us.
He caught my hand gently and placed it on his hard cock, guiding me with a soft urgency.
"Aaaahhh... Nabila," he moaned, his voice rough with pleasure as he felt my soft palm wrap around his shaft. "Your touch... it's like fire and silk."
I blushed, but my hand began to move slowly, stroking him with growing confidence. His cock felt hot and hard, throbbing gently in my palm like it had its own heartbeat. The skin was silky-smooth over the thickness beneath, and as I ran my fingers along the shaft, I felt a tremble run through his body. That made my heart race even more.
His breath hitched, and he let out a low, needy moan that sent a delicious thrill through me. Just knowing I could make him feel like that filled me with boldness, and I gripped him a little firmer, moving my hand with more rhythm, wanting to please him, excite him, and make him lose control just like he did to me.
His lips pressed against mine again, more intense this time, his tongue brushing my lips, asking for entry. I smiled shyly and opened my mouth, letting him in. His tongue slid inside, warm and slick, dancing with mine. It tasted faintly of coffee and desire—earthy, male, and utterly intoxicating.
He wrapped his left arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and with his right hand, he cupped my breast , squeezing and kneading gently at first, then with more hunger.
"Ohhh, Nabila... your boobs are so full... so perfectly round," he whispered into my mouth between kisses, his breath hot and uneven.
A soft moan escaped my lips as I stroked his hardness, and his fingers teased my nipple, sending little shocks of pleasure through my chest. I arched slightly, pressing myself more into his touch.
My body was burning with need, and in that moment, it felt like only he could quench it.
His kiss grew wetter, sloppier, his lips crashing into mine with unfiltered hunger. His tongue roamed inside, rubbing against mine, trying to explore every part. It went deeper, hot and eager, and I could feel our mixed saliva trailing down from the corner of my lips. A thin string of it stayed between us when he paused, just staring into my eyes with pure fire in his gaze.
His hand was still on my breast, but for a moment, he froze, and I too paused the slow stroking of his cock. We both stood like that-bodies hot and trembling-breathing each other in.
Then, without warning, he pinched my nipple sharply. "Ahhhh!" I cried out, my eyes squeezing shut as a jolt of pain and pleasure shot through me. My hand gripped his cock tightly in response, and I felt my fingernail scbang instinctively across the sensitive tip.
He groaned aloud. "God, Nabila... you're going to kill me," he said with a strained voice.
His mouth returned to my face, planting wet, messy kisses on my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead. He bit my earlobe softly, growling low, then moved to my neck, sucking just under my jaw. My skin tingled and burned with every kiss.
He bent lower and cradled my breast from underneath, gathering the softness in his warm hand. His mouth found my nipple, sucking deeply, then flicking it with his tongue. I gasped loudly, nearly jolting from the touch, but his other arm held me firm against him.
"Ohhhh... Ranjeet!" I moaned, my fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer as my body arched. "Yes... right there... don't stop..."
But he wasn’t in any mood to pause. His left hand began to roam slowly along my bare back, caressing every inch of my skin. His fingers trailed from my neck down to the small of my waist, then slipped lower to cup my petticoat-covered bums. The way his palm pressed and kneaded my curves made me quiver, sending hot shivers up my spine. The roughness of his palm against my soft, bare skin created a delicious contrast, setting off a wave of tremors in me. “Aahhhh,” I moaned softly, my voice catching in my throat, while his mouth continued working magic on my nipple—sucking, licking, gently nibbling, driving me wild.
His right hand slowly moved down to my waist and rested over the tied knot of my petticoat. He caught the string between his fingers and gave it a soft tug. The knot loosened, and I gasped as I felt the garment go slack around my waist. But since the petticoat was lycra, it didn’t fall right away. He tugged it a bit lower, inch by inch, until it gathered around my knees. Then, with a teasing smirk, he placed his foot gently on the gathered fabric and eased it all the way down to my ankles, where it pooled like a soft ring around my feet. I stood there trembling, completely bare now except for my soft pink lace panties that clung gently to my skin, tiny silver earrings, and the delicate chain still lying above my breasts, my heart racing as I watched the hunger grow in his eyes.
"He looked at me with raw hunger in his eyes, his voice low and full of desire. "Woooww... my queen..."
He leaned in, planting a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. Then, with gentle force, he guided me backward until the backs of my legs touched the edge of the sofa. With a little push, he made me sit and then lay back as he knelt between my legs. His erect cock hung heavily between his thighs, swaying slightly with each movement.
His hands reached for the waistband of my pink lace panties. Slowly, teasingly, he began to slide them down. I gasped softly, my hands flying up to cover my face, shy yet smiling behind them, feeling both exposed and aroused.
He pulled the panties all the way down, dragging them over my thighs and calves, then finally off my ankles, tossing them carelessly to the floor. A cool breeze brushed against my wet folds, sending a shiver up my spine.
"Wooow..." he breathed again, this time in awe, his gaze fixed between my legs.
He lifted my legs and gently bent them at the knees, placing my feet on the sofa. Then he leaned over, his voice a tender tease as he caught my wrists.
"Why are you hiding that beautiful face, darling? Don’t be shy," he said warmly, pulling my hands away from my face and placing a kiss on my forehead.
I blushed but didn’t resist. His soft words and hungry gaze made me feel beautiful and wanted beyond words.
Then he caught my left foot and gently kissed the sole, then took each toe into his mouth and sucked slowly. I shivered and giggled at the tickling sensation. He gave the same loving attention to my right foot, his warm tongue making me squirm with pleasure. Then he began kissing up my calves, placing soft, wet kisses along my thighs, inching closer and closer to the most intimate part of me.
He paused right there, right in front of my pussy, his face only inches away. He gazed at it with an expression of awe and hunger, then closed his eyes and took in a deep, deliberate breath, inhaling my scent as if it intoxicated him.
"God... Nabila... you smell so sweet... so delicious," he murmured, his voice rough and full of longing. I felt his warm breath fall gently over my folds, sending a jolt through my body. It was a strange and thrilling feeling—intimate, forbidden, and arousing all at once.
Then his tongue reached out and touched me, gently at first, parting the folds with a slow, deliberate lick.
"Ahhh... Ranjeet... what are you... ohh..." I gasped, my fingers clutching the sofa cushions.
"Shhh... just feel," he whispered, before diving in with his wet, eager tongue, licking and circling my clit, exploring every inch of me with raw hunger.
Sensations coursed through my body like wildfire, from the crown of my head down to the tips of my toes, an entirely new realm of pleasure unfolding as someone licked my pussy for the first time in my life. My husband had never ventured there, never dared to taste me like this. My eyes squeezed shut, my lower lip caught firmly between my teeth to stifle the building ecstasy, but moans escaped anyway—soft at first, then rising in pitch as his tongue danced over my most sensitive folds.
Then, suddenly, something hard pressed against the slick opening of my pussy, sending a jolt through me. I opened my eyes, propping myself up on my elbows to glance down, my breath coming in shallow pants. There he was, his mouth still kissing and teasing my swollen lips while his finger probed gently at my entrance. He met my gaze, a wicked smile curling his lips, and murmured, "Relax, darling..." Before I could respond, he slid his finger inside me, the intrusion filling me with a delicious stretch that made my walls clench around him.
It was overwhelming—tremors rippled through my core as he began moving his finger in and out, slow and deliberate, while his tongue continued its relentless assault on my clit. I collapsed back onto the sofa, a deep, throaty moan tearing from my throat: "Ahh... oh God, yes..." My hand flew instinctively to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding his face deeper into my wetness as waves of heat built inside me.
Emboldened, he added a second finger, stretching me further, and picked up the pace, finger-fucking me with rhythmic thrusts that hit every nerve. He curved them just right, scbanging along my inner walls in a way that made my hips buck wildly, my body squirming uncontrollably on the cushions. "Mmm... fuck, don't stop," I moaned loudly, my voice breaking into desperate whimpers—"Ohh... Nabila, you're driving me insane"—no, wait, that was me, Nabila, lost in the haze, my cries echoing off the walls as the pressure coiled tighter and tighter.
Finally, it shattered—I shuddered violently, my pussy pulsing around his fingers in a shattering orgasm, juices flooding his hand as I arched off the sofa with a final, guttural scream: "Yes! Ahh... I'm coming!"